


Passionate Declarations (How I Despair!)

by Markirya



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: Diary/Journal, It's HephaEstion, M/M, Not Hephaistion, Other, Secret Relationship, Weird and complicated phrasing, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 14:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markirya/pseuds/Markirya
Summary: Humble and loyal, Hephaestion kept two diaries, from those days filled with glory, from which certain pages were lost to the winds, or the gods' will, in which the most tactical and historical thoughts of Alexander's right-hand man and soul mate are presented.Beware, be warned, this shan't be a merry tale, for those hadn't been known at such time, when men lived for the enjoyment of sadistic gods.





	1. Ptolemy (Introduction)

**Ptolemy- Introduction.  
**

  Humble and loyal, Hephaestion kept two diaries, from those days filled with glory, from which certain pages were lost to the winds, or the gods' will, in which the most tactical and historical thoughts of Alexander's right-hand man and soul mate are presented. We all knew the story, as one of such diaries described in much detail, details that revived in us survivors the greatest adrenaline, the rush of knowing, remembering those invincible days, days that are long gone, but gave us the strength to carry on and retell this story for the sake of the future generations.  
There was however, the second of the two diaries, that reproduced the innermost desires and thoughts and wishes and fears of the brave and honest Hephaestion, always determined, the only one that could cloud great Alexander's judgement and thought, and told in such a way to produce a story worthy of vast praise.  
  
Beware, be warned, this shan't be a merry tale, for those hadn't been known at such time, when men lived for the enjoyment of sadistic gods. It  is filled with much regret and heartbreaking irony, it puts to shame even the greatest of gods, as only they could be responsible for such mischief, and the heartbreak of a fine young soldier, victim as many to the vast charms of youthful Alexander, and the  insecurities he felt, always uncertain as to what the king felt; it was definitely a god with a wretched sense of humour that allow'd no clear definition of the young king's desire, as it made it so hard to uncover the truth he himself couldn't quite put into words like his always-faithful companion could.  
  
Be joy'd, still, that this tale contains love, undoubtedly, and one that is so great it blinds some more naïve youths. For what more can one ask for when presented with such evidence of undying, unwavering love, as pure as only the holiest of feelings allow. It is not easy to observe, it's not presented in the clearest of lights, but that's what makes it honest and true. To be able to witness the kind of feelings these two men held for each other, and strong feeling they certainly were, one is commended to scrape at the story's facts, sift through all that which the gods- eternal culprits of all of love's mishaps- planted to make that love look cover'd, unrecognisable as such, covered by those sins that come so naturally to us imperfect humans they can barely be considered as such but more of a  sign of truthfulness, of reality, and to fully grope the intensity of the emotions that pulled on their hearts. There is jealousy, and mistrust, and doubts and insecurity, all rearing their unforgiving heads towards the couple, obstacle to the joining of these souls.  
  
But in the end, a term with which some refer to the end of their journey and their lives, and by wiser ones considered the end of the day, the start of the night and therefore another day, those matching souls within their own complementary bodies seek each other out, joining with the utmost certainty that   theirs was a love so true not gods nor stars, with their malicious intent and their wicked sense of humour, could wretch.  
  
They lived, therefore, for the moments their hearts call'd to each other, and that is what this lover's diary will prove. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this like ten thousand years ago, and I just feel like uploading it. It's not extensively corrected (or even re-read)  
> I won't get offended if the sentences were waaaay too messy to be understood or read. Please tell me, and if you can do it nicely it would be even better.  
> Hope you enjoyed it as much as I remember having fun while getting my whole brain twisted trying to figure the phrases out haha <3


	2. Worthy of the World

I can't help what I feel, that's what I realized after a while.  
I couldn't avoid it, I couldn't escape him... well, it's not like I tried really hard. It seems so impossible for someone to resist him, unthinkable that someone would think little of him, or believe him unworthy of praise and recognition. For I know the gods know exactly what a man he is.  
Alexander. Such a beautiful, powerful name, fitting for such a beautiful and powerful man. He was... perfect, my best friend, for that we were in our youth-filled days.  
We were friends, but we loved each other further, than even the gods dared say. Luckily for us, there was no such ban for a love like ours, and we easily got accustomed to the feel of our bodies. Though accustomed would mean so much less when it was him, for such a great man he was. I could never get used to him. Every time I laid my eyes on him, his presence, his body, it filled me with such a sweet indescribable feeling, like a warm trail of desert water flowing down my throat. It didn't matter how many times I touched him, or how many times he touched me, it humbled me to look upon those fiery eyes, to feel the contact of those steady hands and sun-kissed skin upon my own pale one.

He, Alexander, was a man worthy of the world. He deserved everything, for he was king. He was determined and focused, on the sole purpose of symbiosis; a term which became a fundamental pillar of my existence. 

He was shy, sometimes, when the other people wouldn't dare approach. In his chambers, lonely nights, it was a heartbreaking sight. I would hold him, and love him, even more than I already did, for I knew he would always remain the man that swore to love me. He would reveal to me, willingly, his deepest secrets, his desires. And then he'd look otherwise unperturbed, save for the shift in focus in those gorgeous eyes, and the faint blush that tainted polished cheeks. He would, hesitantly, lay a gentle hand on the curve of my neck, and draw me in, close to him. My breath became shortened, and the pace of my heart quickened.   
Next thing I know, I feel the rough texture of his gown on my temple, as he gathered me in his arms. When he was troubled, he would draw delicate patterns into my forearms with his fingertips, as he contemplated things in that enviable mind of his.   
These were the moments I savoured and treasured, when I got to drown in the essence and the power exerted by those muscled thighs and forearms, and I knew I was home.

Alexander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you could probably tell from the dates, it's all being updated almost at once. I only chapter'ed it so it looks like a real journal.


	3. I am Him

Alexander.  
Such a name in power bathed was reserved for him, and none but him, for he was the greatest of men. And yet, I could but listen on in a disbelief so humbled as he claimed me 'him'. I was he, which in turn meant he thought of himself as a part of me. For we were indeed fragments of each other, would we be torn apart that mere half hearts would be in sight, one of my king lying proudly by one of mine.   
My dearest youth-since Achilles, my beacon of goodness had dared the gods and claimed our soul, for we do share but one. No longer did Alexander bend to whimsical gods but did follow his own whimsical quests. 

I was claimed and won even as I truly had always been of my king.   
Never had a man been so happy as Hephaestion.

That night the veil crashed harshly by the gods and their fury, but we would heed not such childish exclamations. Not when by the light of a mortal moon would he swear immortal love and devotion at me, when by sincerity did my king and his eyes shine, holding all of what I was in but a whispered smile. I could and did constantly lose my way within the paths that those eyes held as I was lead astray by plans and ambitions, only to be called back to the all-center by the heat of his lips.   
Never did someone feel so unworthy, and yet I could help not but be drowned in praise that could not belong to me, led by selfish desires of not carnal as much as of soul in nature. Unworthy might I remain, yet loved I would still. 

Alexander did truly see nothing but the best in everything and everyone.


	4. A love-sick fool

“...I'm so jealous of losing you to this world you want so badly.” I remember telling him that one evening. I shouldn't have done that, as troubled as he was, what was the point in further reminding him about the decisions he was making. Decision that were sure to rub a few the other way, but I couldn't control it. Sometimes, he became so immersed in his plans for Babylon, and going east, always east. I sometimes wondered, if he forgot about me, if he considered me a worthy partner and lover. For I saw the way he looked at that servant of his, the man-whore, and the sultry looks they covertly – and not always so much- shared.

I knew, always had, that I had no right to blame him, he was king, and therefore supreme as only he knew. He deserved the universe and more, and anything within that universe that he should desire. In that way, I could not argue or let that ancient jealousy shadow my eyes. What would he think, and it hurt to even ponder on it, if he knew how much I could let my heart be poisoned by wicked feelings belonging rather to the weak, willingly stab that dagger in my gut. I craved for him, how much I wished to the gods they would allow me to keep him forever, screw Babylon and the poor soulless bastards within its walls. Would he care, if he were to ever find out, that which would never happen had he a choice, for he would not trouble his king so. He could fathom still, and fathom would, if Alexander were to be moved to know of those bitter, chilly nights, under who's veil everything seemed gray and forsaken; were he to reckon I, forsaken in nightly cover and silenced by the greatness of the stars that shone for him, I would cry myself to sleep to noiseless tears, ailed by thoughts of unworthy servant skin aiding my king in what would gods despair to deny was for Hephaestion, my one true, however unworthy desire. 

For even though ever youth-since we've been the closest, a pleasure I revel in each day, one that cannot be by any means stripped from my skin, riddled with sin as though might be, I was with full awareness that at once would he leave me if he knew of such thoughts coursing through my sleep-deprived mind. Would he not? Would he let his Patroclus go? When Alexander did hold within his beautiful self a smoother skin, for sins were moved as fast as the god's whims were forsaken. My king could not but see me in the light of the brave soldier, doubtless of loyalty and fearless of thought and heart, and even should would my judgement be perverted by such worthless, sinful feelings, my king through noble, loving eyes would not gaze it.   
Away with jealousy! They shan't reign over this love-sick fool.


	5. None would he love...

I, Hephaestion, fool that from the very depths of land could be gathered I was, I would not get that easily rid of my heart. I did feel it, and terrifying in its certainty, do I know I will soon die. In joy would I by mercy leave this plane, to have my mortal, bruised soul be judged as it would. Hephaestion did dwell on the brink of death, that were only gods did dwell and could yet go back, all for my king to leave and conquer, as I have lived my life whole. Never did I ever wish but for my Alexander, and even a half step from Hades, for that is were, like mine, forsaken souls would carry, I still could not help but call Alexander mine. Servants and fierce women tainted by a jealous rage that could mountains burn higher than mine could hold within, they could for one hold my beloved king in arms of heat and soft bedding would clamor to the skies so as to seek ruin. They could revel and blind themselves drunk on my kings affection, the warmth of life and power held softly, harshly in his hands, they could but aim their unworthy eyes at mine and filled to end with venomous pride that could vanish with the softest wind, or with the contempt that could belong to none but the truly naïve, foolish in their belief their king could be but mine, and I do indulge my pride as I prepare to depart the living and my king amongst them. To none did Alexander give his heart as fully as he did leave his right by mine. To none did he fall time and again in desperate and beautiful abandon, thirsty in his quest for flesh, as we were but kids we could share all and what little we owned like body, mind, soul, or the half of the soul as we did share the one whole. I would rather I be dead than have a hold on my king's mind, whom I know to be of all ambition filled. Should someone be god so to know how many a veil of night was shredded in bruising hands, of power draining thighs of willing Hephaestion, by power all willingly given to my king, for he could demand all I ever could once be, and would I gratefully lose it.   
To none did he go to be weak, for none could know my king as strong within his weaknesses, but he would to me hold on, touch me, kiss me, burning from within my will to be but him until it could consume all of the world. I would rather it all burn to keep Alexander wound around my body, as his life wound around mine, heart of my chest as bound as his to mine.  
None did he love like he did Hephaestion.


	6. Farewell, dearest Achilles.

I walk the line of death, it is clear to more eyes than just mine now. I would not dare tell my king and yet I cannot escape my selfish desire for his kind eyes to feast on my life, of whatever piece of it is left I bid he take it all and live on and during some nights, when it was not to be so sad, pray I would he did remember his faithful Hephaestion, his youth-since companion, if but for a single while, and I should in peacefulness leave towards Hades.   
I die, and my king is not to be by my side. I hurt, for betrayal by the hands of the jealous can but hurt for the unkindness. He had not walked the line of the death as gods would, for it was not death he was to encounter. Murder it was and he had been dealt in death that was not for me to dwell in. I ail in that I will not see my Alexander, though his heart will beat with mine, and selfish I must confess I would not give it back would I be asked to, but one other than my king and then perhaps. It was Hephaestion and his last sin, to keep the heart of my king that did belong and would for life belong to none but me. Will it I do for it to die inside of me as I begin on my journey down to the Underworld, and will for it to be my light when I can never deserve but veils.   
Farewell, my beloved Alexander, and pray I not be but by his heart be kept company. Farewell, my beautiful king and long live though not with me by his side as I will even in death regret, which would mean my king be deprived of half his soul, and all of his heart that is rightfully mine.  
Farewell, and bid your Hephaestion goodnight, for it will not be for long as it is true that we are but one soul abiding two bodies. Farewell then, my soul, for we will by the grace of that which not even the mightiest of gods could hope to detain be reunited so I can be pulled from Hades and rushed once more into your truly, Hephaestion loving arms. Be then by your own grace and beauty that we will ascend or be lost for the sin of a broken soul in two bodies at rest.   
Farewell my dearest Achilles, and do not cry yet make only if you would swift haste towards your faithful youth-since companion.  
Farewell.


End file.
